


Tranquillity

by galient



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Anger, Angst, Bad Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Crying, Daddy Issues, Family Drama, Family Dynamics, Fluff and Angst, Healing, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Not Beta Read, Realization, Why Did I Write This?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 02:48:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28949184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galient/pseuds/galient
Summary: Tommy wasmad.He wasangry.He was- he was so incrediblytired.-In which Tommy reminisces.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & Technoblade & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, TommyInnit & Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 9
Kudos: 248





	Tranquillity

**Author's Note:**

> So so sorry. This is literally a vent.

Molten, blurry memories of fingers plucking strings of a guitar, its sound vibrating the wood of the instrument behind Tommy's head. Tommy knows he was just a small boy, laying in Phil's lap and listening to his father strum weathered hands against a scratchy guitar. 

He didnt sing. Not often, not unless it was late at night and Tommy was restless enough to ask him. But he played. He played everyday under Wilbur and his requests, with a soft chuckle and a nod that Tommy never noticed was tired. 

He remembers being carried to bed after faking his sleep, just to be held in his fathers arms. Phil would lay him down and kiss his forehead, let him giggle having already knowing he was awake. Tommy would listen to his footsteps visit his brothers, watching the light from the hallway flick off. 

Tommy remembers holding Tubbo's hand tightly, watching with a heavy heart as Phil and Techno rode off on horses for a trip that had been talked about for weeks beforehand. Somehow he never felt ready for their adventures. 

Wilbur learned the guitar, and played the same songs Philza did before he would leave. A smile would play softly on his lips, Tommy's wide blue eyes full with wonder and Tubbo's calculating gaze of interest. The brunette would play every night, until Tubbo grew sick of hearing the chords and Wilburs hands grew rough. 

It was never a problem. Phil and Techno would return with great riches and success, Phil still hummed melodies while stirring giant pots of stew, Tommy and Tubbo swaying at his legs to get a better look. Wilbur still grinned and sparred with Techno with bruised legs and sore evenings. Tommy would still beg to let Techno teach him, even at his proud age of six. Life was easy, back then. No bad memories to startle awake to, no war riddled streets he carved out of the floor himself. 

Until, memories start to blur and jumble with months of a half of his family absent. Tommy could sit in the cold, still waiting for his dad and his big brother to come home. Wilbur had to drag him inside, feed him with no smile but comforting pats on the shoulder. The lanterns lighting up the kitchen no longer waded warmth, so Tommy didn't bother waiting by Wilbur's feet with Tubbo. 

When Phil and Techno did come home, it didn't change. Tommy welcomed them home by clinging to Technos waist, smiling wide and declaring playful demands. Techno would huff and nudge him away, like he always did. Tommy was hopeful, wanting to be like they always were, but Phil grew stressed and tired.

He no longer played the guitar, in favor of training Technoblade until dusk, and he spaced out randomly while staring out the window. The house became glaringly quiet, and Phil and Techno never seemed to be around. 

Tommy only has memories of Wilbur becoming angry, biting back sharp remarks towards their father as the man distanced himself farther and farther away. Never did Will snap at Tommy or Tubbo though, unless it was playful wrestling and laughter. Tommy remembers growing taller, Wilbur mussing his hair and commenting on how much he grows every year. 

Tommy recalls the days he joined Techno in his room, frightened by the shouting that would burst about in the house by the other two family members at times. It was hard. Especially since he knew it was about him, and his best friend, as the youngest.

Young Tommy would stuff his face into his arms, curled in a ball at the edge of Techno's bed. The teen wouldnt say anything, just shuffle next to him and hold him close next to his shoulder. Tommy was nine at the time, face fresh with smeared tears. "I hate it when Phil yells." Tommy would mumble, and Technoblade snorted. "Tell me about it." 

Tommy would let Tubbo shove his face in his neck, sniveling as Wilbur planted a bandaid on bloody skin. Tommy would call him clingy, pretending loudly to be irritated, just to watch the smaller to laugh and tearfully insult him in response. 

Eventually, Tommy grew used to the fights, and his fathers absence. He learned to expect only Wilbur and Tubbo, relying on them with a clenched fist and reluctant acceptance.

Even as years dripped by, falling away like rain and in a blur. 

Even now, as he stands in front of his so-called father with that same clenched fist, the same fist that's fought in wars and been used to pull back that damn arrow he missed all the time ago. He stands, back hunched and shaking with unshed tears. 

Its blaringly loud, the wind passes through feathers and blows all around them in a whistle. What was once L'manberg is nothing but a ditch, ash and soot still envelope the stone and wood. It's been two days since the decimation of L'manberg, and in his reminiscence the days become muddled and shaky. 

Words settle heavy in his mouth, exhale shaky as it leaves his lips. Hes angry. Furious, even. Hes been mad for _years._ Thoughts built up everytime Phil had turned down Wilbur on another guitar lesson, everytime he watched Phil and his brother leave with their backs to them, everytime Phil had dismissed one of them. Everytime he'd been abandoned by his own father. Phil had took away the only person who had cared for him, even if he was insane. 

And in years of anger he struggles to find one thing to latch onto, tears of frustration and exhaustion flicker between worn out and anger. He _wants_ to be angry. He _has_ to be angry. But he's just. Tired. 

Tommy looks up from the cracked stone ground, mended by ripped flowers and vines, into Philza's eyes. "You're a shitty dad." He chuckles humorlessly and his voice breaks, ignores how Phil tenses. 

"I know." Phil says softly, cloak billowing in the wind. Tommy glares at him, "No, you dont. You dont understand what I had to go through- What we all had to go through!" He snapped, hand coming up to clutch the bandana around his neck. "I thought-" Tommy falters, voice closed around his words and forces him to sigh. "I had always thought, that maybe, _maybe_ you cared about me, or wilbur. Or Tubbo. But its clear that you don't." 

Phil is silent. Stares at Tommy with pained eyes and a gruff frown. "And- you did! A long time ago, maybe you said you loved us, maybe you fed us, gave us a home, so what _changed?"_ Tommy laughs, the bandage around his shoulder and the bandaid on his nose crinkling in the process. His arms feel cold to the bone, but he doesnt care. 

"Listen, Tommy-" "No, you listen!" Tommy cuts him off, eyes glassy as he shouts, effectively shutting the older up. Tension links them together, pulls the words from his mouth in a tumble. "I'm tired! So, so fucking tired! You have no idea what I've been through, just for you to come back here, and take Techno's side as always!" Tommy seethed, throwing his hand out to the side and gesturing outwards. 

The younger breathes heavily, shutting his eyes, and pressing the pads of his fingers against his eyelids. "Do you know, what Wilbur had asked me before he died? Before he blew up L'manberg?" Tommy pressed, gritting his teeth before opening his eyes. Phil stared at him with wide eyes, brows furrowed. "What?" The winged man asked, though his stance told him he clearly was not ready to know. He didnt care. 

"Do you think Philza would be proud of me?" Tommy recited, eyes casted downwards as he recalls the way Wilbur smiled bitterly, how his knuckles were bruised and the taut line of his shoulders. Painful memories of Wilbur, solid, real and _alive_ haunt him every night in his dreams. It's not hard to remember Wilburs words. 

Tommy doesn't look up, cant bring it in himself to see Phil's reaction, how he feels knowing how much hes hurt his family. "Have I learned my lesson yet, Phil?" The teen hisses his own words back to him, curses the sorrow welling up in his gut and overflowing his eyes. Tears bleed from his eyes, suddenly and so fast Tommy doesnt have time to wipe them. 

"I'm sorry." 

Tommy turns his head so fast his vision spins, and he stares flabbergasted at the man. " _I'm sorry?_ that's all you're going to say?" Tommy says, tears drip down his nose, the might of his growing glare blurring the edges of his vision. "You gave up on me when I needed you the most!" Tommy screams, voice hoarse with emotion. 

Exile, alone, hungry and tired full of nothing but remorse and fury. Life began to drain from him everyday as that damn smiley mask came up from behind him and took everything from him. Clutching that worthless compass pointing to the only one who cared about him as much as he did. Thoughts growing shorter and of how to make his life shorter began to consume his mind. Dream pulled him up by his arms with strings attached to each limb and controlled his every move and thought. 

Tommy's knees became weak, and he held himself as the wind burned his ears. He let loose a choked sob, cutting the silence, tension and leaving only the hurt and rejection of realization. Like a cut being exposed to the air, red and ugly and so very upset. "The things Dream did to me out there." Tommy whispers, sinking to the ground with blank eyes. 

"The things he did." Tommy repeats, wetting his lips and looking back up at his father. Phil's eyes were wide and filled with guilt and concern, hand stretched out as if he wanted to hold him. Tommy let another sob escape him, looking up at Phil in only sorrow. "Just for you to team up with him. Not even worry about me once." 

He inhaled the grey sky, clouds swirling above them as wind parted the leaves and rippled the grass. The sound of water rushing echoed down the crater of L'manberg. "I fucking hate you." Tommy cries, sobs wrecking his body as he hunches over. 

Forehead kisses, warm fires, music, laughter, soft words being exchanged while swords clanged together, meals shared with smiles and playing in the grass. Cold days, starvation, arrows flying, explosions constantly, nightmares and awaking to someone crying. The steady beat of his lives each being lost slowly, his determination always overshadowing whatever had bested him, the dedication into the discs, his home, Tubbo. 

God, he was tired. 

So Tommy shut his eyes tight, pretended no one was there, felt the grass brush against his face while he screamed and sobbed for what once was. For all that he missed, the pain built up over the years. He was sixteen, but he was much older. He ignored the embarrassment, the presence of his father who was never there. Tommy wept, for everything. 

He missed Wilbur, when he was alive. He missed Tubbo, He missed Niki's smile, he missed making fun of Fundy. He missed joking with Quackity, missed when everything was simple and happy even after Tommy had left Philza's home. Tommy missed it all. How fast his childhood had gone thanks to Dream, the painful rip of an arrow shooting him in the head. Of honeyed words sickened by Dreams lips. 

He missed Technoblade. God, even the anguish supplied with the betrayal of Techno, killing his best friend, the anger towards that damn stubborn belief system. Tommy still missed him. So fucking much. 

Worstly, Tommy missed Phil. 

He missed his dad, the times Wilbur could laugh and joke with him with singing vastly inappropriate lyrics, hugging his fathers waist and a gentle chuckle and pat on the back. Missed him despite the hurt he caused him, the abandonment he constantly faced. Being called 'clingy' because he was afraid of being abandoned. Tommy missed him even when he blew up L'manberg with Technoblade, missed him when he killed Wilbur. 

Every mistake Tommy's made has been entirely his own fault, but that didn't stop him from wishing Phil would support him during his mistakes, wishing somebody would acknowledge that he didn't mean to hurt so many people. Wanting someone to understand why he is this way. 

But at the moment, no one did. 

So, Tommy cried. 

**Author's Note:**

> Rushed ending ig. Listen to class of 2013 by mitski on repeat for full effect. Or experience by ludovico einaudi.


End file.
